In the Morning Light
by torinotoni
Summary: Romance, rated for the implications. ReaverxSparrow Reavers POV


Anyways I'm back with a new oneshot! Anyways Reaver x Sparrow, so yes ,;; kind of more ranting than anything... I'm just gonna tell the story now.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fable 2 or any of its' characters! Yosh!

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The smell of musk and salt wafted through the oak room, the rich furniture which he had collected decorated the room with out much effort, the dim light stretched through the room, wandering through the expensive displays of his trophies and past glorious adventures, his newest one lay in bed next to him, her thick hair tangled on the pillow as her flawless face rested softly on the pale white fabric. His head lay propped up against his elbow as he watched her sleep soundlessly.

Sparrow was her name, or at least that's what they had called her now, Lion Heart was another, Blade too, but these titles grew old it seemed and they vanished into a puff of smoke leaving her with the name Sparrow. He had heard many tales of her exploits, but never imagined that she would have to the guts to trudge through Wraithmarsh and travel all the way here just to see him.

It felt strange to him, perhaps too strange. So long he had gone with out seeing anyone worth his time, anyone that had been pure and strong enough, and sadly fall before him like any whore on the street corner. He had hopes for her, so many hopes, and all of them had washed out to sea.

His calloused fingers brushed some of her hair, the tangles wrapping around his fingers trying to pull him downwards, still he watched silently as she did not stir from his sleep, her skin glowing in the faint sunlight.

He hated Sparrow, he hated everything about her, the way that she always sacrificed for the greater good, the way she would always protect those who didn't deserve it, and her misguided sense of justice. He hated it all, but what he hated most was her beauty.

Reaver looked over at her face, he had seen only two scars, one on her back which looked like a sword had cut through her flesh, and one bullet mark which had hit right above her heart, he wondered if he should have asked her where it was from, but those words slipped away with the night leaving him to ponder in the pale morning light. He had her tales to of this warriors beginning, of how her sister had died and how she was left alone to die on a cold winter's night, but such things he dismissed as simply tales.

His hand extended forwards as he brushed against the cool skin, his dark eyes studying the details of the mark, he felt her shiver under his touch as he watched quietly and smirked, he loved seeing the mighty Hero of Albion wither under his touch, he loved seeing her once peaceful face turn into one of worry and fear. She seemed to shrink before him, slowly turning into dust.

He let his hand fall as he traced her breastbone, her body relaxing softly as he let his hand trail towards his pillow and finally plunge underneath it. Reaver's hand wrapped around cold metal as he watched Sparrow continue to dream, he pulled out his gun holding it near his chest as her rose and fell rhythmically peacefully.

He could kill her; he could kill her perfection, put out her light so to speak and leave her body to sink into the ocean. He wanted to, oh how he wanted to, he wanted to kill this girl before her which had rose and become stronger than him. Better than him, and while he had everything in the world and she had nothing, no family, no home, no money, she was happy, she was stronger, she was better.

His grip tightened as he pulled the gun away from his chest and pointed it at her temple, the gun an inch away from the tender flesh.

Yet as he hated the hero, he had loved her as well, he had fallen to her charm, to her smile, and now she was lying next to him in trust, he bit at his lip angrily as the sharp bitter anguish stabbed through his heart.

Sparrow stirred and he remained silent still holding the gun, his hand steady just as it had been two hundred years ago, it always had been. Reaver leaned over the body slowly bending down as he let his lips brush against her temple. He hated her, and he loved her, placing his pistol under his pillow hit let his head fall against the softness of it as he closed his eyes. He would despise and worship her for his eternal life.

Yes, this was the life he had chosen, wrapping his arm around her waist he found himself falling into a soft slumber, and he embraced the blackness of his dreams.

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Eh so yeah... that's it... , kind of werid xD. I hope you enjoyed please Read and Review~


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